


tear me to pieces, skin and bone

by befham



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-07-01 04:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15766164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/befham/pseuds/befham
Summary: “The Queen is with child, my daughter.”There was a long, tense silence.“No,” Anne whispered in disbelief. Her hands curled into fists, her fingernails puncturing the skin of her soft hands as she fought to contain her pain. She was a fool. A complete and utter fool. Tears pricked her eyes at just the thought of Henry, her Henry laying with that cow-When Queen Catherine gives birth to a healthy baby boy, a devastated Anne must find a new path in life.





	1. Chapter 1

The moment Anne stepped into her father's quarters in the dead of night, she knew that the news he was about to reveal did not bode well for her. Thomas Boleyn sat behind his imposing desk, a thoughtful frown on his tired face as he listened to Norfolk hissing in his ear on one side, and George looking worried on his other.

Norfolk fell silent as his cold, clever eyes landed on her. Despite her nerves, Anne met their gazes as though she was their equals. After all, they would not have such lavish quarters if it was not for her capturing the King’s eye. 

They would still be nothing if it was not for her.

“Father, Uncle,” Anne greeted with a respectful nod. “George,” she greeted, allowing her lips to curve into a small smile as she finally turned to her dear brother.

George did not smile back.

Swallowing back her nerves, Anne walked further into the room, her heart beating harder with every step. “What is it?” she demanded simply as she stopped before his desk, finding a perverse pleasure in watching Norfolk’s face briefly twist with displeasure at her interference. If the insipid man had his way then she shut her mouth and do as she was told. 

The man was one of the most powerful men in England. And yet, with one whisper in Henry's ear, Anne could have his head if she so wished. She ached to tell him so, to demand that he give her the respect that she deserves, but once more, Anne bites her tongue and smiles coldly.

There was a long tense pause, and clearly what they planned to tell her would displease her greatly. 

“We must change our plans, Anne,” Thomas said eventually.

Anne frowned. “But all is well Father. The King becomes infatuated with me more everyday-”

“And what of you, Anne?” Norfolk piped up, his shrewd eyes watching her every breath. 

“Pardon, Uncle?” Anne questioned coldly. 

Thomas rolled his eyes but watched Norfolk wearily. "Now is not the time for this."

“There is not one person at court who can doubt the King’s feelings for you,” Norfolk said, carefully weighing every word as he ignored her father. “My concern is that you still entertain feelings for him. After all,” he continued, his lips curving into a chilling smirk, “We have warned you in the past not to let your emotions get the better of you.”

Her mind went back to those beautiful letters Henry would send her when she was forced to remain in Hever Castle, and though she knew what kind of man the King was and how his eye wandered, Henry slowly captured her heart with every beautiful word and stolen kiss.

She was a fool to confide in George, but she had learned her lesson regarding her brother’s loyalties.

Anne swallowed back her rage. “My feelings are inconsequential, Uncle. I have done as commanded and he has not looked upon another woman since he laid eyes on me.” Looking at her father, Anne forced herself to calm down. “He loves me, father,” Anne said softly. If she had been any other woman speaking to their father, she would have begged him to understand that she loved the King too and it mattered not that he was married. Their love for one another could change England, the world-

But she was a Boleyn, and all that mattered to the men in her family was their ambition.

“I truly believe that he will make me his Queen the moment he can get his divorce-”

“The Queen is with child, my daughter.”  

There was a long, tense silence.

“No,” Anne whispered in disbelief. Her hands curled into fists, her fingernails puncturing the skin of her soft hands as she fought to contain her pain. She was a fool. A complete and utter fool. Tears pricked her eyes at just the thought of Henry,  _ her Henry _ laying with that  _ cow _ \- 

He  _ promised _ that he had not lain with her since Henry had asked her to be his  _ maîtresse-en-titre _ .

In that moment, it did not even occur to her that if Catherine gave birth to a boy, Anne would never be Queen.

Feeling the cunning eyes of Norfolk on her, Anne pushed aside her pain and attempted to hide her devastation, though she suspected it was too late as she caught George’s pitying eyes. “Henry said that he has not visited her chambers in months,” Anne said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“It is true,” George replied, quick to ease his sister’s pain even by a small amount. “Our spies in the Queen’s household swear that the King hasn’t visited her bed in six moons. Her courses had stopped and everyone believed her to be barren. Alas, the Queen felt the babe move, Anne.”

Anne could not help it, she flinched.

“What if the child is a girl?” Thomas asked shrewdly. “Is there a chance that Anne could still become Queen?”

“It is possible,” Norfolk replied slowly. “However, it would be all the more difficult for the King to obtain an annulment if he has a second child with Katherine.”

“Not all hope is lost,” George piped up. “It is possible that she will miscarry once more. The child could be stillborn, and the Queen could die in childbirth if we are lucky.”

Anne felt sick to her stomach as she looked at George in disgust. When had her dear, sweet brother become so.. twisted? She could not stand listening to them hoping for the death of a child even if the babe did hinder their plans. “That is treason,” she whispered. 

They all ignored her.

“Perhaps we can arrange for the Queen to have an  _ accident _ ,” George said.

“That is enough,” Anne whispered.

Thomas looked at his son, a cunning gleam in his eyes that made Anne shudder. “Getting rid of Catherine and her child this early would be far easier than waiting to see the outcome of the situation-”

“Enough!” Anne shouted at her wits end. The three of them paused and looked at her in astonishment. Meeting Norfolk's eyes, she could only hope that he did not agree with the drastic plan her father was currently concocting. After all, if Norfolk did not approve, then Thomas would never act upon it.

“Forgive me, Anne,” Thomas said. “I have gotten ahead of myself.” He smiled blandly and stood. "You need not worry yourself over the details. I will ensure that everything goes to plan."

"You're being absurd!" Anne said carefully. "We would never get away with it."

Norfolk looked over Anne carefully, those cold eyes flashing. “We do not have the luxury of making an attempt on the Queen’s life. If anything happened to her, we would be under suspicion and it is not worth the risk. No. The Queen will not be harmed by our hand.” Despite her hatred for Catherine, Anne was relieved. She wanted to be Henry’s Queen, she would never deny that, but she would rather not have the blood of a pregnant woman on her hands. “We shall continue as planned,” Norfolk continued. “Anne will go on as she is with the King.”

Relieved, Anne bowed her head in respect. She wished them all a good night, claiming tiredness. She ached to be alone, to finally unleash the pent up rage and misery bubbling in the pit of her stomach-

“But hear me, Niece,” Norfolk called just as she reached the door. Anne paused but did not look back. She could not bear to look upon the monsters that she called her family. “You will bite your tongue on the matter in the presence of the King. We cannot jeopardize everything because you cannot control your emotions.”

Anne clenched her jaw, biting back the urge to snap at her uncle. _How dare he?!_  

Instead she took a deep breath and left, trying her best to ignore the tears that clouded her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Anne was supposed to meet Henry for breakfast. Alas, she told her maid to send word that she was unwell and begged his forgiveness. The King sent his personal doctor to examine her but Anne refused to see him. 

The King would be furious, but it was little more than what he deserved. To hell with her family’s plan! To hell with Henry!

She sent her maids away and locked herself in her quarters the first day, eager for solitude to wallow in her despair and to eventually plan her next move. 

She was an ambitious woman, she would not deny it. Once she had learned that there was a chance that Henry would make her his Queen, Anne craved it with every fiber of her being. She longed to be the most powerful woman in England, to sit by Henry’s side and help him rule his country. She fantasized about her children being Kings and Queens amongst Europe and creating an everlasting dynasty.

But more than all of it, she wanted to be Henry’s wife.

She was a fool. A complete and utter fool to have put all of her hopes in Henry. And an even bigger fool for falling in love with him. 

Even if they were to admit defeat, what man would have her now? She knew what was whispered about her. How she was a whore and how the King had already had her. No respectable man would want her after believing she was little more than the King’s castoff. 

But it was untrue. She was a maid, and she intended to stay that way until her wedding night. 

Her entire future depended on her rival, her enemy.

Long after her tears had dried, Anne wore a bitter smile at the irony of it all.

**\--**

On the second day, Anne ventured from her bed. Her maids fussed about her asking for her health and if they should fetch a doctor, but Anne assured them that all was well. She felt their curious stares and she was sure to be the topic of gossip amongst the staff. 

If any members of her household sold her secrets to her enemies, they were sure to be having a field day with her self imposed exile, her firm refusals to see the King and the fact that she has not eaten a meal in days.

Anne could not bear to leave her room once more, and so spent the third day reading. Growing tired of their imploring eyes, she dismissed her maids from her chambers, ordering two of them to stay outside should she need anything. It was well into the afternoon when there was a timid knock on her chamber door. Sighing in displeasure, Anne placed her book on the desk and softly called out, “Yes?”

Her maid, Jenny, peered around the door. “Pardon, Mistress, but there is a messenger from the King. He wishes for you to join him for dinner tonight.”

Anne swallowed, her heart pounding desperately in her chest. She could not see him. She was not ready to look him in the eye and pretend that everything was alright, that she was happy for him to finally get his long awaited son.

In this moment she hated him for making her love him.

She could feel Jenny’s curious gaze on her, so Anne pulled on a cool mask and carefully replied, “Tell the King that I am indisposed.”

Jenny merely murmured, “Yes Mistress,” and shut the door behind her.

Henry would be furious with her for denying him a second time.

Not an hour passed before Jenny knocked on the door again, this time announcing Nan. Tears pricked her eyes, and before Anne could grant her permission, Nan pushed passed Jenny with an irritated frown and slammed the door in her face. “The wench tried to deny me entry! Can you believe it - Anne, what is wrong?” she asked gently upon seeing Anne so under dressed. 

“Nothing, I am fine,” Anne replied carefully, trying to muster a smile but failing.

Nan was having none of it. She went to pour them both a goblet of wine and sat next to Anne taking in her pallid complexion and her unbound hair. It pained her to see her dearest friend so unhappy, though she was almost sure that the King was the reason behind her despair. Whilst Nan did not care for the Queen, she did not care for Anne’s relationship with the King. Anne was bound to get hurt in her quest to become Henry’s wife, and though she supported Anne wholeheartedly, Nan knew exactly what kind of man the King of England was. “What is the matter, Anne?” Nan repeated softly, placing the goblet in her hand.

Anne sighed, and her carefully constructed composure crumbled as she met Nan’s worried eyes. She lifted her goblet and took a long drink, ignoring her trembling hand. Tears pricked her eyes as Anne said softly, “Catherine is carrying the King’s child.”

“Oh Anne,” Nan breathed sadly. She took Anne’s hand in hers and squeezed gently and it was all too much. The possibility of Henry discarding her, of losing him to Catherine and being ruined, the kindness in Nan’s eyes - Anne began to cry.

“I cannot bear it,” Anne cried softly, all too aware of the ears that could be listening outside of the door. “I cannot bear to see her flouncing around court knowing that she has won. But more than anything, I cannot bear to see Henry happy with  _ her _ .”

Nan watched her friend with sad eyes and carefully said, “Perhaps the child will not survive. The Queen has had many miscarriages, it is far more likely given her age. There is still a chance you may become Queen.”

“And if she delivers a healthy child? What then Nan?”

Nan had no reply.

Anne stood abruptly and drained her goblet in one smooth drink. Nan watched her, her eyes shining in concern as Anne poured herself another goblet of wine. She took another long drink and tilted her head back and laughed bitterly. “That Spanish cow will have me sent away the second her spawn has left her belly. Do you see the irony of it Nan? I wish to send her away, and yet tis I who shall never see Henry again!”

“Do not be foolish Anne,” Nan chided gently. “The King loves you, he would never send you away from court.”

Anne shook her head, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “The second Catherine delivers him a healthy son, she will ask him to send me away and Henry will grant her every wish.” Her mouth trembled and Anne made no move to wipe away her tears. She looked beautiful and broken, and Nan’s heart went out to her. She drank the rest of her wine and poured more with a trembling hand.

“Oh Anne,” Nan sighed sadly. “The King would never send you away,” she repeated.

Anne turned back to her friend,  “I will be ruined, Nan. Everyone thinks that he has bedded me already. No decent man will want me. I will have nothing!”

Nan hushed her. “The King would find you a suitable husband if you asked him, I am sure of it.”

Anne shook her head, that terrible smile still fixed firmly in place. “My family want me to become his whore. If I can’t be Queen of England, then I can become Queen of his bed,” Anne cried, laughing bitterly. The room began to spin slightly as Anne spun around in a circle, her bitter laugh loud for half of the court to hear.

“Anne, stop this,” Nan said softly. “Not everything is lost yet-”

“Yes it is!” Anne snapped impatiently.

Nan stood, her impatience finally shining through. “You are acting like a child. You still have options if this comes to pass. You can still marry, Anne, you can still have a family,” she added softly.

But Anne shook her head hopelessly. “It is not just that. I love him Nan. I do not want any husband, I want  _ him _ . I am such a fool! They warned me to not let him into my heart. And yet I did! I am such a damn fool!” Anne whirled around and threw the empty goblet with a cry, and the sound of the shattering glass of her mirror echoed throughout her chamber.

Nan watched in shocked silence, her breath leaving her in a rush as Anne brokenly whispered, “I love him.”

**\--**

On the third day, Anne woke to complete and utter silence. Normally she would hear the whispers of footsteps and the hushed voices of her maids, but there was nothing. “Jenny?” Anne called out, but silence was her only answer. With an annoyed sigh, Anne got out of bed and threw open her chamber doors-

Only to see Henry standing in the middle of her quarters, his expression twisted in quiet fury. 

“Why have you been ignoring me?”


	3. Chapter 3

With the life she had led, there was not much that surprised Anne anymore. But seeing the most powerful man in England in all of his royal attire standing in the middle of her quarters demanding to know why she, a  _ commoner _ , was ignoring him, a  _ King _ , shook her to her core.

And she was dressed in nothing more than a thin nightgown with her hair still untidy from bed.

An uncharacteristic blush stained her cheeks at her blatant state of undress, and despite his obvious anger, Henry’s sharp eyes darkened as he slowly took in the sight of her. Despite the rumors that followed Anne’s every step, she was still a maid. No man had ever seen her in such a state of undress let alone a King.

But the King - _her_ King \- looked at her with heated eyes, and despite Catherine, unexpected babes and her meddling family, she wanted nothing more than for Henry to take her to bed and _finally_ surrender herself to him after years of this game that they have been playing.

But then Anne forced herself to breathe and she crashed back into reality.

She loved him with her whole heart, but she could not allow him into bed.

She was already a fool for letting him into her heart.

Anne lifted her head and stared at Henry as though she was the dressed in her finest clothing and looked every bit the Queen she desired to be.

_ This is what you will be giving up _ , she hissed at him in her mind.  _ The moment that woman gives you a son, you will never have me. _

“Your Majesty,” Anne greeted softly, unable to give him her usual smile as she curtseyed before him, pushing aside the ridiculousness of it all. She averted her eyes as Henry sighed in impatience before he strode towards her. Anne remained in her curtsy until Henry gently took her hands in his and pulled her up.

With only inches between them, Anne kept her eyes averted as Henry gently cupped her cheek. “Look at me Anne,” he demanded softly, and though she did not know if she could bare it, Anne complied. She swallowed back her tears at the sight of his familiar soft gaze of this man who wields so much power yet looks at her as though she is the most precious thing in all of England. His eyes tight with worry, Henry said, “What vexes you, my love?”

She wanted to tell him that she knew everything. She did not have the strength to keep up a charade and it was clear that Henry would not let her avoid him for long. Her uncles words come back to her -  _ “You will bite your tongue on the matter in the presence of the King. We cannot jeopardize everything because you cannot control your emotions.” _

It was true. She could not control her emotions when it came to Henry.

Perhaps if she could, she would be far too busy plotting her next move to become Queen rather than stewing in her misery.

So Anne attempted a smile, failing completely, and said, “Nothing, Your Majesty.”

Henry frowned in displeasure, his eyes hardening as his hands came to curl around the tops of her arms. “Do not lie to me Anne,” he warned gently as he stepped back to watch her with keen eyes. “You have ignored my invitations for days and have not replied to a single one of my letters. What is going on?”

Anne pursed her lips, and despite her uncles warning, she could not bear to pretend any longer.

“I know that Catherine is with child,” she admitted softly, her heart clenching unbearably when Henry made no move to contradict her. A small foolish part of her had been hoping that her family’s spies were wrong-

But when it came to Henry, she had already proven that she was a fool.

“Yes, she is,” Henry replied stiffly after a long moment.

Anne’s lips trembled when she saw no regret in his eyes or an apology on his lips. He was a King after all, and his wife was finally doing her duty. In his eyes Henry had nothing to apologize for.

Yet he did. His dalliance with the Spanish Cow had ruined her future -  _ their _ future. 

Anne knew that she should wear a smile on her lips and wish his new child well, yet she could not. All she could think about was the King -  _ Henry -  _ in bed with that  _ woman- _

“You told me that you stopped visiting her bed-”

“I have,” Henry snapped, his tone gentling when he saw the misery on her face. “It has been months, and only then it was out of duty. I had to  _ try-” _

“Well you succeeded,” Anne snapped, unable to help herself. It was with a twisted glee that she watched Henry swallow back his sharp reply as he realized that Anne would not smile and congratulate him.

It should have been  _ her  _ carrying his son, not that dried up old hag.  

Henry took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips and then placed it upon his cheek. His touch sent shivers of longing through her, and just for a moment, Anne embraced it as she watched him with sad eyes. “Anne,” he said gently as he leaned into her touch. “I love you, my darling.  _ Only you.  _ It changes nothing.”

She wanted to believe him. More than anything. But she was a rational woman, and there was no solution to this where she became Henry’s wife if Catherine birthed him a son. “It changes  _ everything _ ,” Anne whispered brokenly.

Henry remained silent, his jaw clenched as it slowly dawned on him that though he may get his much awaited son, he could lose the woman he loved.

“Nothing has changed, Henry,” Anne said softly. “My husband will have my maidenhead. No one else.” Fury flashed in the King’s eyes at just the thought of any man but him laying a finger on her. “You may get your son, and I shall be happy for you,” Anne lied, her heart clenching at the thought. Dropping her hand from his face, she stepped away from him and continued, “But, my love, you shall not have me.” 

“So that is it then?” Henry demanded furiously. “A son or the woman I love. Why can I not have both?”

_ Oh Henry. _

“Tis not that simple,” Anne said. “You said that I would be your wife.”

“Is my love not enough?”

“I cannot be your mistress, Henry.”

For a long moment, Henry did nothing. Anne watched in silence as his jaw clenched and his eyes tightened as he tried to reign in his anger. 

Alas, it was Anne who could not reign in her’s when he spoke next.

“So ‘tis true then?” Henry bit out coldly. “You want me for only my crown?”

If he was anyone else, she would have struck him for his words. “How dare you question my love for you?” Anne hissed. “I have played the villain of your story for months! The seductive  _ whore _ who bewitched the good King and turned him from his good, noble wife! I am named a whore and a harlot by nobleman and commoner alike because I love  _ you _ !” Anne spat, her voice breaking. She cared not what others thought of her, but it broke her heart to think that he thought ill of her as well. “You may keep your crown  _ My King!”  _

His handsome face twisting in anguish, Henry reached for her, but Anne spun away from him, her rage leaving her as quickly as it had come. 

Anne turned her head away to hide her tears. “I do not know if I can bear it,” she whispered.

His footsteps echoed in the room until he stopped behind her. He cautiously placed a hand on the curve of her waist and gently asked, “Bear what, my love?”

Anne slowly turned towards him feeling completely and utterly lost. “I do not know if I can be by your side and watch as you have a child with a woman who is not me.”

“I love only you,” Henry said softly, his calloused hand cupping her cheek.

“I know,” Anne replied. “But it matters not. If Catherine gives you a son, she will remain as your wife, will she not?”

“Yes,” Henry replied simply, the turmoil clear in his eyes for her to see.

Anne choked back a sob. “I have nothing,” she whispered.

“You have me,” the King replied, his thumb swiping away her tears, and just when she could not bear it any longer, Henry pulled her into his arms. “You have me,” he repeated before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. Despite it all, Anne welcomed his touch, eager to push her turmoil to the back of her mind as she deepened the kiss.

_ But I will not have  _ all _ of you _ , she thought hopelessly as he pulled her tightly against him until their bodies were one.  _ I will never have all of you _ .


	4. Chapter 4

The feast was a lavish affair that showed no sign of winding down, the King deep in his cups after delivering his announcement that the Queen carried a child to the court. Though the Queen had been showing for months even in her frumpy dresses, it was only announced this late in Catherine’s pregnancy for fear that the babe would not survive.

Alas, Thomas Boleyn’s prayers that the Queen would miscarry were unmet, and with only two moons until she reached full term, Catherine and her babe were in good health.

Despite her age, pregnancy suited Catherine. Her once tired and aging face now glowed, a small smile constantly on her lips.  _ And why should she not be happy? _ Anne thought bitterly, watching the Queen place a hand on her swollen belly as she sat beside her husband on her throne, her head held high and proud as courtiers who had once flocked to Anne’s side for her favor now returned to the Queen’s on the slight chance that the woman would give Henry and England their much desired Prince.

For the first time since arriving at court, Anne could see the woman that Henry fell in love with when he was first crowned King all of those years ago and fought to have her as his wife.

_ He loves me _ , Anne reminded herself, feeling completely hopeless at George’s side as the King turned to his wife with a joyful smile upon his lips and leant over to speak to her.

“For the love of God Anne, smile,” George hissed in her ear, his hand gripping her wrist painfully, though Anne barely noticed for her eyes remained on the royal couple as the King -her beloved Henry who claimed to love  _ her _ above all others- gently laid his hand upon Catherine’s belly, his lips curled into a gentle smile as he felt his son kick.

Her lips trembled, tears pricked her eyes, and if she was anyone else but the Lady Anne Boleyn, the woman who an entire country cursed calling her witch and whore, Anne would have succumbed to her tears and fled to her rooms to nurse her broken heart. Instead Anne pursed her lips until they stopped trembling and stubbornly blinked away her tears just as she met Queen Catherine’s eyes.

Anne would not forget the look upon her face until the day she died. 

Catherine smirked, certain that she had won, her eyes hard and hateful as they looked upon the younger woman who wished to replace her. All the woman had to do was deliver a healthy child. A son would secure Catherine’s position, and even a daughter would help her cause. With two daughters, Henry would have a much harder time divorcing her. 

Anger swept through Anne as the King remained oblivious, his attention fixed upon his much desired son as his cow of a wife glowered down at her. Oh how she wished to be in that woman’s place! To have Henry’s child growing in her belly as he proudly rested his hand upon her for everyone to see-

Instead she was forced to suffer in silence as he fawned over the old cow and had yet to spare Anne a glance all night.

_ He loves me _ , she stubbornly reminded herself yet again as she pushed aside her bitterness.

Anne smiled back, a beautiful, vicious twist of her lips.  _ You have not yet won, Your Majesty. Our game is not over until the child in your belly lets out his first cry. _

Catherine looked away first as Henry claimed her attention once more, and Anne had had enough. Wrenching her wrist away from George with a withering glare, Anne turned to Mark with a coy smile. “This entire affair bores me, dearest Mark. Lets make our own entertainment for the rest of the night.”

Mark shot George a meaningful look, and she realised that Mark and her brother already had plans. Despite her suspicions of the exact nature of their relationship, Anne pushed her fears and worries aside. George’s choices were his own after all, but Anne would not hesitate to use them to her own advantage when the time came for it. George had chosen to set Anne’s wants and needs aside for his own gain, and she would do exactly the same now he had chosen who his loyalty belonged to.

Mark, a man of true kindness who noticed just how much this entire affair pained her, smiled and made no effort to refuse her despite the frustrated look George shot her way. “What do you have in mind My Lady?” Mark asked politely, his smile infectious as plans started to form in her mind. 

With one last lingering look at Henry, Anne smiled and took Mark’s hand in her own. “Come, my friend. Let us have our own revelries.”

George put a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Father will not like it Anne,” he warned quietly.

Anne shrugged him off and turned to him with a playful smile. “Oh come now George! When did you become so dull? It will be a small gathering of friends. Father will not even hear of it.”

\--

Of course, Anne’s father would hear of it the next day, as a few friends turned into many acquaintances who all but filled Anne’s quarters. With only an hour to prepare, Anne, Nan and Mark had truly outdone themselves as they had arranged their small gathering to have plenty of fine wine from the kitchens and a makeshift band of musicians Mark was acquainted with who were all too eager to gain favor with her despite the late hour.

Of course, once the King’s feast started to wind down, more of Anne’s supporters turned up and her small gathering had turned into a full blown revelry. Deep into her cups, Anne danced with her ladies and even a few noblemen as her quarters were filled with music and wine.

Even George’s sour mood lifted, his drunken laugh echoing around her quarters as he got far too familiar with Mark in such company.

George was right. Father was going to be furious, but it was of no concern of Anne’s presently as for the first time in months she enjoyed herself with little thought of Henry, family duty and Queens.

She had changed from her modest blue dress she had worn to the feast and into a dazzling red gown that left her back bare and showed more skin that was socially acceptable. It was a dress she had been saving for Henry, eager to see the heated look in his eyes she had known would be present the moment she had tried the dress on. She felt beautiful, the center of attention as she danced with Nan, laughter spilling from her lips as Mark caught her off guard and spun her around the room, her hair spilling free of it’s elaborate braid as she threw her head back and laughed. 

_ This is freedom,  _ Anne thought closing her eyes, no care in the world and never wanting this moment to stop as Mark spun her into the arms of another man who pulled her far too close to his body. Anne opened her eyes and looked up into the heated gaze of Sir Thomas Wyatt. For a moment Anne’s smile faltered. She knew the whispers of her past relationship with Thomas had followed her to court. It would do her no good to be seen dancing so intimately with him.

Anne had loved him when she was barely a woman grown, and a small part of her longed for those simple days before he was married and she was put into the King’s path. But that love had been quickly eclipsed by the passion that Henry stirred in her heart. How could she ever be content with a simple life when Henry had showed her what love could really feel like.

“You look beautiful, Anne,” Thomas said, his smile causing an old ache in her heart.

Anne gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Thomas,” she replied quietly, trying to put distance between them but Thomas’s grip would not loosen. Anne looked away from his penetrating gaze and forced a polite smile to her lips. “I hope that you are enjoying yourself this evening.”

A warm chuckle slipped passed his lips. “It is a pleasure to get a moment alone with you, Anne. I was beginning to fear that we would never speak truly again.”

Unease spread through her, though her smile remained fixed in place. “We have spoken many times since your arrival at court, sir,” Anne replied lightly, wry of the eyes that were fixed on them.

“You’re always with the King,” Thomas muttered. Anne tensed but remained silent. There was nothing to say for it was the truth. She glanced around the room hoping to catch George’s eye but her brother was nowhere to be seen.  _ Damn you George, _ Anne cursed. “I know that you are doing as your father commands-”

“I love Henry,” Anne said quietly but sternly, her eyes hard and impatient as she met Thomas’s sad gaze. “Watch your tongue, Thomas.”

“And if the Queen has a son,” he continued relentlessly, continuing to spin her around until the rest of the world was a blur. “What will you do then?”

“It matters not, Thomas,” Anne snapped, her patience leaving her because is that not the problem with this whole sorry affair she has gotten herself into? What shall she do if Henry gets his heir? She pushed the thought away and desperately searched for a friendly face to assist her. Mark had taken up his violin, his sweet melody filling the room, and Nan was nowhere to be seen. Swallowing back her unease, Anne forced herself to look back at Thomas. “It does not concern you.”

Thomas stops suddenly, his eyes impossible bright as he says, “Marry me.”

Anne’s head was spinning from the wine and the dancing but clearly Thomas had indulged in too much. “You are being absurd Thomas.”

“I am serious Anne,” said Thomas, his hands coming to frame her face. “You loved me once, and I love you still. I would be a good husband to you-”

Anne pushed him away, her eyes narrowed into slits as she replied, “You have a wife Thomas, and I am sure that she will be missing your presence. Perhaps it is time for you to return home.”

“I can get a divorce-”

“Goodnight Thomas,” Anne said stiffly. She made to leave but Thomas grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Release me,” Anne snapped, reeling at the audacity of the man. 

“So you will be his mistress?” Thomas demanded. “You would rather be his mistress than my wife?”

“Yes!” Anne snapped, her lips curling into a vicious snarl. “How many times do I have to say it Thomas for you to understand? You and I have no future. I love him.”

Thomas reeled back as though she had struck him, and opened his mouth to reply but something behind her caught his eyes. Thomas backed away as though she had the plague. She was vaguely aware of the laughter around her fading and the music coming to a sudden stop. Her guests were quick to drop into bows and curtsies, each greeting the King with a quiet, “Your Majesty.”

Forcing a playful smile to her lips, Anne slowly turned to the King and dropped into a graceful curtsy, her eyes never leaving his as she purred, “Your Majesty.”


End file.
